


Midnight

by lashes_for_bats



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Virginity, a little pain mixed with your pleasure, is this fandom really ten years old now?, vampire porn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lashes_for_bats/pseuds/lashes_for_bats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. Just an attempt at a little "lost scene" between Bells and Edward after the scene where he surprises her with a bed. I mean, come on Edward, you can't just buy your girlfriend a bed and be all "ha ha, guess we gotta be supes chaste in it! (ΘεΘ;;;)". What a nerd. Anyway, so I wracked my brain and came up with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

_arriving quickly--you, Blessed One,_

_with a smile on your unaging face_

_asking again what have I suffered_

_and why am I calling again_

_and in my wild heart what did I most wish_

_to happen to me: "Again whom must I persuade_

_back into the harness of your love?_

-Sappho

 

 

 

 

_He started to hum my lullaby, and I knew it was only a matter of time till I succumbed, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his chest…_

                                                                                                                                                                                    -Stephenie Meyer, Eclipse

 

 

 

 

I must have fallen asleep almost immediately after, since before I knew it I was waking out of a deep, deep sleep. I realized I had to use the bathroom and gave a little grunt of annoyance, something that didn’t escape Edward’s notice. He shifted a bit under me and some of the heat that had built up between us escaped. Damn, I hated getting up right now. I would have much preferred to stay in my warm and comfy nest, snuggled up to his chest, with the covers pulled all around me. With a slight sigh I raised myself up, and pushed back the strands of hair that had woven themselves over my face like a cobweb with my usual tossing and turning.

“Bella?” his low, cool voice came to me through the darkness, a tangible presence in the dark.

“Back in a sec” I mumbled, stumbling towards the bathroom just outside the door.

 

..

 

Turning the faucet off I shuffled my way back down the hall and into Edwards room. He was sitting up on the bed, completely still in the moonlight that came in through the immense window that took up one side of his room. Lifting up one leg, I hooked my knee on the mattress and used it to pull myself up on the impossibly high bed. Really, the thing was the most ridiculous piece of furniture in the history of bed making. If he was going to get something this high off the ground he should have gotten me a stepping stool as well. Sighing, I crawled my way back across the covers and into his open arms.

“Mm, you feel nice” I whispered into the dark, snuggling into him and we both lay back down on the bed together. Instead of going back to my previous position of laying on top of him I settled next to him where he lay, shoulder to shoulder, with his arm still wrapped around me. The back of my head lay perfectly cradled by his arm while his fingers, strong and steady, played with the strands of my hair. I shivered a bit to feel the tips of his fingers, as cool as always, brush the side of my temple before smoothing my hair back into place.

For a while we just lay in the dark together, not talking, looking at how the moonlight, shining through the branches of the forest outside, cast a silvery, intricate web of shadows on his wall. I shifted a bit and unthinkingly threw my leg over his, rubbing the bottom of one foot absent mindedly down the top of his ankle. Normally he was so cool that I had to bundle myself in extra blankets to keep from freezing while being held for long periods of time, but every now and then that seemed to back fire and I got a little too heated. Touching him like this felt nice, and I could feel the excess heat being leached out of me and into him. Although I would have gladly opened my veins to him had he asked, I trusted Edward to never, ever, take a sip of my blood , but it still made me smile to think that he was being a bit vampire like by stealing the heat away from me. I laughed to myself and nuzzled the underside of his chin.

In response he reached over with his other hand and cupped my cheek, bringing me around to face him so he could place a kiss on my forehead, then between my brows, on my cheek, the corner of my mouth, before tilting my head up to kiss one side of my chin. I sighed, a high, breathy sound of disappointment at him not having brought his mouth to mine, that quickly died in me as he brought his hand away from my face, gently tracing fingertips around my jaw, down my neck, to stroke the tiny dip between my collar bones. I watched his face intently as his fingers played with the neck of the shirt I slept with. Gently, he slid one finger below, pushing the fabric down until two fingers rested, not between my breasts, but lower on my chest than he usually liked to go. I closed my eyes and focused on taking deep breaths, praying whatever he was doing wouldn’t be over soon.

Edward had touched my chest only once before. One night his hand had slid up under my shirt and had pushed the soft fabric cups of my bra up and away. He had touched me softly, almost reverently, and at first I had been silent in wonder and awe of the way both our bodies had continued to find just the right way to fit even when introduced to new ways of touching. Eventually I had made the mistake of giving a tiny sound of pleasure, of lifting my hips a fraction of the way off the bed in unconscious anticipation of what might come next, and he had quickly slid his hand down and away and ended that evening’s activities.

Edward had been very patient in explaining to me that he found me very, _very_ , appealing to him (emphasis his), but that I was as tender as an empty eggshell to him. How he could trust himself not to lose control, not hurt to me, was a bewildering proposition to him, especially when I seemed so intent on being a very active and vocal participant in anything going on. It had taken me awhile to finally work out that there were times, few as they may be, when he felt confident enough to allow himself to try something new, to touch, or kiss in some way that took us both a little deeper. Times when he felt divorced just enough to allow himself to experiment, and the best way to encourage his curiosity was for me to lie as still and silent as possible while he explored how far he could go without losing control. It was the only way, as far as I could tell, to physically reassure him that he was capable of being close without hurting me. Normally this cool, clinical type of touching would have hurt my feelings. If it had been anyone else it would have been a major turn off. Yet, the fact that it was Edward, the fact that this seemed so necessary to our understanding of each other, made it all the more enjoyable. I loved the challenge of lying as still as possible while his hands went through the movements of some dress rehearsal that both of us understood would one day bloom into an opening night performance.

As he ran his thumb over the fabric against the underside of my breast, I focused very hard on not breathing. I didn’t realize until it was too late that I had accidentally tightened my leg where it lay against his, pressing down in silent anticipation. His hand abandoned its perch on my ribs and gave my knee a pat.  I felt something in me deflate like a balloon in disappointment. Why couldn’t I have stayed still a bit longer? Yet, much to my surprise, his hand traveled first down and then back up my leg to curve around one hip where his fingers brushed the elastic band of the sweat pants I was wearing.

His fingers drummed there for a moment before I heard him ask "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." He laughed at how quickly I responded.

"But do you trust me to be foreword with you?"

"Edward, yes." My voice had taken on a slightly impatient whine that was embarrassing even to my ears. It was quickly shaken from my thoughts, however, as my head and heart both gave a dizzy lurch as he brought me up right, as easily as a doll, so that he could lift me up just enough to push the fabric of my sweats down and around my hips, then off my legs completely. He flung them somewhere off the edge of the bed, and down deep into the darkness.

Side by side, we lay together in the dark, both of us breathing heavily now, much more heavily than such simple movements warranted. It seemed neither of us dared to move. Suddenly his voice sounded in the dark, husky on the verge of cracking, so soft it was barely audible.

“Bella?” I gave a soft sound of affirmation as he paused, as if weighing his next words with great care. “You do not have to do anything you don’t want. I want to be very clear about that. I love you, and that would never change, no matter if you refused me now or not. But if you would be agreeable, I would very much like …” His normally perfect voice began to stumble a bit, and I could feel him take a moment to steady himself. I could practically feel the effort he took to get a firmer grasp onto his impeccable self-control. “That is, Bella, would it be alright if I were to remove your underthings?”

I groaned a little at how quickly the little burst of pleasure his words wrought in me moved up my body to settle hungrily in my chest. My heart was beating like mad against the walls of my chest, the thick muscle sounding with all the fevered tension of a booming drum. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all was. One little tiny proposition and already my body was ten degrees hotter. Did stuff like this really happen in real life? I could never quite get over the fact that Edward always made me feel as if I were trapped in a bad romance novel.

Choking, I responded hungrily. “Edward … _please_.”

Rising up a bit on one arm, he looked deeply into my eyes as he leaned down to kiss me. As our mouths met, tongues tangling, he reached down and hooked his thumb under the front elastic of the band to my panties and pulled. I curled my legs up towards my chest so that he wouldn’t have to break our kiss to reach down to get them all the way off. When they were off I put my legs back down, and for a moment, was distracted by how odd it felt to be so naked down there, the cool of the night air pressing against me, an intimate touch that hinted at things to come.

For a while we just kissed, I lovingly tangled and untangled my fingers through his coppery hair where it fell down over his face. Briefly I pushed it away to place a kiss against his forehead as he continued to kiss my face in return. He placed a hand against the top of one thigh, and gently trailed his fingers up and over to ticklishly touch the place where my thighs met. We both jerked a bit with laughter as I moved my legs back from his fingers, only to realize that the movement had effectively parted my legs and allowed a space for him to place one gently cupped hand against the most tender part of me.

I trembled at how intimate a touch it was. My body felt effervescent with a pleasure that seemed to drown out every bit of me except for where we touched. I was half terrified at just how startling and complete such a feeling was. But leaning back, and feeling his whole body lean against me in return, just like that, as suddenly as the terror had come, it washed away, leaving only a sureness in its wake. _I_ wanted this. _He_ wanted this. We fit together in a way that bypassed simply compatible and soared high above into divinity, so intense was the closeness, so good was the touch.

Gently he began to move his hand up and over me to curl one hand over the mound above before sliding back down. I kept kissing him as I felt a warm wetness begin to build up in me. He shifted his hand and I felt the coolness of one finger press against the tiny bit of flesh right under my opening, before slowly sliding up and parting my lips and moving up to firmly, but gently encircle my clitoris. I gasped as he moved up and over the hood before slowly dragging his finger back down to complete the loop, only to start to repeat the motion before I even had time to register my disappointment. Over and over again his middle finger dragged the slow lazy circle over the entirety of me, circling my opening, on up, over the top, then back down, with torturous slowness. Each time he got to that burning place at the top, he brushed just long enough to send an electric jolt through me, but moved back down and away before anything else had a chance to happen. I whimpered in frustration and he gave a musical laugh back in response.

Just when I thought I might have to resign myself to just having to take my pleasure in bits and pieces, he shifted his hand and brought his thumb to rest on top of my hood as he slowly began to rub in firm but tiny circles. I felt my eyes close and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me as finally, _finally_ , he turned his attention to the place that mattered most. Again and again, those tiny, steady movements. My back arched. My pelvis tilted slightly down in an attempt to increase his pressure. He moved just the fraction of a bit faster in a way that was entirely satisfying. I was so wet that i could feel it beginning to chill in the night air against me. The sweat began to trickle down from the small of my back, the back of my neck, under my breasts. I clenched and whimpered and he leaned down, as immovable as an iron god, to hold me in place so that I could barely even writhe beneath him. I silently begged him to go even faster, but he kept up the same slow, steady, delicious rhythm, and I felt as if I would lose my mind.

Then I felt his first finger begin to curl and duck down until it was resting just outside of me while the rest of his hand never lost its rythm. That teasing touch, of being so close to entering, just hovering right at the edge of the opening to me, where no one had been before, was almost enough to undo me. I pressed my hips up with a renewed force when to my complete and utter surprise, he moved his hand foreword and slid his finger completely into me. I was breached completely. The whole of me touched in a way that was completely new, the surrender so complete as to be almost terrifying. The breath was knocked from my chest as my hips bucked at the intrusion, yet he kept his hand steady, penetrating me with an immovable force that would not, could not be dislodged or knocked away in a clumsy movement. I clenched as hard as I could around his finger and moved my hips again. In response he shifted his hand slightly so that he could move to put a second finger in me, both curling up to give a long, slow, steady stroke to the top of my inner walls. I twitched a bit at that, to feel both fingers inside me. As wet as I was, this was more than I ever had inside me, and a slight twitch of pain gave a tiny hiccup beneath the much greater ecstasy. The hiccup briefly turned into a more steady note as he slowly began to spread his fingers apart, even as they continued to stroke inside of me, to make more room in me. Instead of retreating from the pain I leaned into it, desperate for more. I wanted him to carve out a space in me, not only physically, but _spiritually_ , for him to reside in.

Edward spent so much of his days trying to protect me, to keep me safe, not only from Victoria but from life its self, simply because between the two of us, he was physically always going to be the stronger until he brought me over. As mortal as I was, as tender as I was, I would have given _anything_ to protect the entirety of him as surely as he protected me. There were times when I would look at him, and the breath would leave me at just the simple wonder of how close to him I felt. Forget him biting me, I wanted to devour _him_ whole. I wanted to take his heart and stitch it up inside of me to protect it, keep it safe forever and for always, where it would be as close as possible to my own. If only there were a way for us to sew our hearts together, to share every beat and breath until the edge of eternity. I looked up at him in the dark and felt the tears slide from the edge of my eyes as I gave him the most sincere look of love I could manage.

In response he groaned and leaned forward. Down between my legs, he spread his fingers even further, and I felt a tiny final give as even the deepest part of me was eventually parted and he slid a third finger into that new space that had surrendered. I choked, the air leaving my lungs as I clenched painfully down and my orgasm spread up into me.

For what seemed like an eternity there was nothing in the dark but that explosive feeling. It was fireworks on the fourth of July, every Christmas rolled up into one, my birthday, and the day we met, and still it was sweeter, more tender, more complete. I marveled at feeling so on fire with him in me. Eventually I was able to breathe again, to gasp and uncurl against the sheets as he gave a tiny growl, and moving over me, pushed my top completely up, exposing both my breasts. His fingers hadn’t moved from within me, and now they began pushing steadily deeper, building a rhythm more fierce than I would have guessed, as his mouth, cold as ice, reached down to hungrily kiss the tip of one breast. I felt the briefest hint of teeth against my nipple, as hard and sharp as knives, just as he pushed his fingers inside of me again, roughly sinking in all the way to the top knuckle. Then suddenly, ridiculously, I was coming again. All that love and pleasure mixed with the roughness and tenderness that was so simply unique to the caress of the vampire in bed with me, mixed with the very strangeness of his being, sent me over the edge again so closely on the heels of my first orgasm.

All I could do was lay there, sweating and gasping for breath, eyes screwed tight as the sting of sweat and tears trickled into them. I felt his hand move gently out of me. Between my legs I felt sore. _Ravaged_ a tiny part of my brain whispered, I would feel that tomorrow no doubt, a subtle, yet lingering reminder of what we had done when I stood up and moved about. But more than that was the warm, happy, utterly exhausted feeling that welled up from my chest to encompass every part of me. I could have died just then, and been utterly happy. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, whatever lay crouched and waiting for us in the future, we could face it now, together. I had never imagined I could feel closer to Edward than I did. But now I did. Hungrily I reached for him in the dark, the simple inches that separated us, physically _hurt_.

“Bella, Bella, Bella …” he was whispering my name into the dark, and it sounded like a prayer. Never had I heard him sound so undone, a quiet marveling sound infused the way he said my name, and in response I buried my head in his chest, and silently said thank you to God.

**…**

After what felt like a very long time Edward shifted and sat up a bit. My eyes fluttered open and I realized that I had drifted off a bit in his embrace. He sat up fully and got out of bed. I turned my head to see where he went, but he was back before I could barely even register his absence. He had brought a warm, damp washcloth from the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the bed he parted my legs and cleaned between them while checking for injury. The intimacy of such an act, that otherwise would have been too embarrassing for words, made me give a happy sigh.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

“No” I answered, my head slowly shaking back and forth against the pillow. He made a tiny doubtful noise, and after a moment of deliberation I decided to clarify.

“Well, just a little bit, yeah.” I felt, more than heard him jump back in response, as if I had scalded him with my answer. “But Edward, I _liked_ it.”

“You 'liked it'? Bella, don’t delude yourself into mistaking pain for pleasure because I wasn’t man enough to control myself.” He was practically spiting the words out in his bitter self-recrimination. I was up like a bolt of lightning at that, sitting up and taking his head between both of my hands.

“Stop that” I said, my admonishment carrying enough force that he dropped his eyes from mine to stare off into the dark. “I’m eighteen years old. I’m an adult from crying out loud. You have to trust me enough to be able to know my own body. _I_ control me. Not you, not anybody else. What feels good to me, what I like, trust me to know the difference between that and something that really scares me. I wanted this. I wanted you.” He continued to look away as I sat there trying to still my heart which had begun to beat wildly at my tiny speech. Then he moved to smile at me and it was like nothing ever happened.

“Of course Bella.” Leaning over he pressed a kiss to my forehead and I groaned in frustration. I could already see him slipping into his familiar pattern of pretending-everything-was-alright-so-I-wouldn’t-worry-while-he-silently-suffered mode. I started to argue with him, but the words died on my tongue, and I flopped back on the bed in silent resignation. There was nothing else I could do tonight, and I was determined to enjoy whatever was left of the mood. Around me, Edward was picking up my clothes, and he gently helped to dress me again in a fresh pair of panties hastily retrieved from my overnight bag and the sweats he had first pulled off.

Ruefully I climbed backwards on the bed and lay back down on the pillows, resituating myself as best I could into the curve of his arms.

“I love you Edward.” I said as I reached up to kiss his lips, delighted to find that he was returning the kiss, his arms circling around me in an echo of my own embrace.

“And I love you,” he answered in return when we finally broke apart.

We lay like that for a while in the dark. The slow stroke of his fingers through my hair a soothing sensation, and after a few more moments he started to softly hum my lullaby. I was almost on the edge of falling into a deep sleep when I heard him suddenly stop humming, his hands stilling in my hair. Drowsily I opened one eye and looked up at him questioningly. On his face he wore a partly startled, partly horrified expression.

“Edward?”

He looked down at me. “Do you think Carlisle heard?”

For a beat, neither of us said anything, and then as if on cue, we both broke into laughter. I could feel my face heating in embarrassment as I pulled the covers up over my face and gave into a fit of helpless, slightly guilty giggles.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, whops! Guess I finally broke down and wrote Twilight smut. How embarrassing - I'm only ten years late. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I wanted to try writing something in SMeyers style. One of the fun things about Bella is that she’s rarely lukewarm. She’s usually either hot or cold, and since she feels things so intensely, so passionately, as a writer I was really drawn to that and thought it might be fun to try a bit of smut from her point of view.


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